Never Again
by Yami no Ryu
Summary: A certain someone contemplates a reality he never wished to exist. Slashy implications. CompanionPrequel to BlackGlass Phoenix.


Yu Yu Hakusho: Never Again

"Hiei! Hiei, stop!"

He kept running.

"Hiei, _matte_!"

He didn't stop.

"Please, Hiei!"

He wouldn't stop.

"I can explain!"

He _couldn't_ stop.

"Hiei, _ONEGAI!_"

To stop meant facing the truth.

"_Onegai…_"

He couldn't handle the truth.

"_Onegai, Hiei…_"

To stop meant that the last two years had been a lie.

"…_Hiei_…"

And he couldn't handle that.

There was the sound of sobbing from behind him, the footsteps following him abruptly stopping. But he didn't. He couldn't. He _didn't want to_. He didn't want to face reality. Because all he had had never been his…and all he had was gone.

Rain fell from the sky, crying tears he could not shed. How ironic that the very thing he hated was pouring…just for him.

Water was his opposite element. Something he could never win against. Funny, how it showed that by crying for him.

The rain mocked him, sitting in his tree, high above the ground. Mocked him, soaked him, cried for him. Days like this he would go to that window, that damned, accursed window, and tap on the pane. A hand with perfect fingers would open it for him and he would slide inside. He would be greeted by a smile, a shock of red hair, the sparkle of emerald gems set into a porcelain-pail face.

But never again. Those days were gone…

How he wished he had known. How he wished that, moreover, it had never happened. That he would have never met him, all those years ago. Never seen that hair, those eyes, that smile…

He was startled when he felt a drop of water run down his face…and solidify into a round, black gem with red highlights. It fell into his hand, and lay there, shining and wet. He had never cried before, never had to, never wanted to. And now he had.

…Why…?

Why had it happened this way? Why, when he had found his light, his soul, had he lost it? And why did he cry…?

He never cried.

Jaganshi Hiei _never_ cried.

In a fit of rage and disgust, he crushed the tiny gem, not hearing as more began their downward decent, hitting branches and leaves, a shower of red-black and silver-white drenching the ground. Never felt the rain, or the pain that the little pieces of glass made as they cut into his palm. All he felt was the heartache, the pounding, blinding, searing pain of knowing that his one and only had never been his…

Youkai did not love, were not meant for love…and he had. He had loved, and he was paying the ultimate price.

Morning dawned bright, a cheery yellow aura settling over everything as the first rays of sunlight cascaded over plants and animals alike. He sat there, alone, cold, wet…and so utterly, utterly lost. The sunlight did not touch him, as it did that around him. He exuded pain, horrible, retching, emotional pain, and the sunlight did not dare to touch him, for fear of soaking up that grief.

He had thought they were happy together, had thought his love was content. He had thought so many things, but not that he was some passing toy.

He had forgotten, or chosen to forget, that his lover had once been a Youko, the best of the worst of his kind. He had forgotten they did not love, that he was not supposed to love. He had let down those walls that had taken so much time to erect; all for a single being who did not care about him save for a moment's entertainment. Had he honestly thought that a mere 17 years had changed that?

Yes…yes he had.

He had been told he was a puzzle. But once one put together the puzzle, what did one do with it? They took it apart, or maybe they left it whole, but they forgot it all the same. It lost its appeal, the puzzle, once it was done.

He was a finished puzzle…and the one who had put him together had no interest in him anymore. So, on to the next puzzle, to play a while, and then forget; a never-ending circle that could not be broken.

He was not the first, nor would he be the last.

He looked at the sun, who did not dare touch him. He looked at the gems below him, gleaming black and red. He looked at the house so far away, holding his love who had never been his. He looked at that room, visible only to him behind the window, the one that held his soul.

He touched his chest. He felt the heartbeat, steady. One may be alive if one has a heart, but one cannot live without a soul.

He looked again at the house.

"Kurama, if you hear me, know you will forever hold my soul in your hands."

The words were whispered on the wind, as the sun now dared touch the Forbidden one. But he felt not the sun's cajoling warmth, dared not feel it. For it would, someday, leave him as well.


End file.
